INDEPENDENCE DAY
by SANDEFUR
Summary: A family update story.
1. Chapter 1

INDEPENDENCE DAY

by

SANDEFUR

Disclaimer: This is fan fiction just for fun. I have no claims.

7-4-08/Friday morning.

WILL

Cyrus Cornwall wipes away a bead of perspiration and mutters about the weather. It is just short of seven in the morning and he can tell it will be another miserably hot day. Even this early game of nine holes will leave him drenched with sweat. Cyrus spots his approaching foe and notes that although they are the same age, the morning heat and humidity isn't bothering his fitter opponent.

"Good morning, Will." Cyrus says as he extends his hand.

"Good morning…Cyrus." Will Girardi responds as they shake hands. He has met Cornwall a couple of times at joint appearances during the mayoral campaign, but they are essentially strangers to each other. Will adds, "Thank you for the invitation."

"Have you played at the Clayton Country Club before?"

"I've been a guest a few times, but the membership fee has always been beyond my resources."

Cyrus smiles. "Arcadia's mayor gets an honorary membership."

Will chuckles. "Another incentive to win. Are you an avid golfer?"

"Hate the game. I'm good at it, but I find it boring."

"Then why do you play?"

"I realized early on that half of my business deals would be made on the golf course. It was the same for my father…and grandfather, now that I think of it."

"And is our meeting this morning in the nature of a business deal?"

"Don't sound so suspicious, Will. I'm not here to bribe you into throwing the election. Although, considering what this campaign will cost me, that might be the cheaper option. No, I just thought it might be wise for the two of us to meet and speak sensibly away from our so-called campaign experts."

Through gritted teeth Will responds, "Them…!"

"I see you are as appalled by these political guns-for-hire as I am."

"People I trust tell me their expertise is necessary, but their win at all costs attitude seems unethical. I realize they have their own resumes to think of, so winning is as important to them as us, still…"

"They're creepy."

Will nods. "And yet, after I sift through all of the garbage they spew, I find useful information that helps me make decisions. This politics thing is such a strange new field for me."

"Me too. It's the last thing I thought I would be doing with my life. In fact, my usual business practices have put me at a disadvantage. Being in real estate development, I've worked hard to keep my name obscure so that land prices don't get inflated when I begin a negotiation. Now I'm paying for that, especially since I'm up against well known town hero, Chief Will Girardi."

"Ex-chief. And…my people tell me I have a 30 percent lead in the polls."

"Mine say 28, but I get your point. I've got a long way to go to catch up, which means I'll be outspending you three-to-one."

"It must be nice to be rich."

"It has its' usefulness. Unfortunately my 'experts' have no faith in my message. Your large lead worries them, and they have suggested we go dirty."

"Meaning…?"

"Endless negative advertising with a focus on distorting and shredding your record as police chief. One 'genius' even suggested I go after your family. I fired him on the spot."

"Good. Who did he suggest going after?"

"Your daughter Joan. Her also being a town hero is a big plus to your side, and the suggestion was to go after her mental health history. You know, the whole talking to God thing."

"That was because she was feverish from Lyme disease!"

"Easy Will, remember I fired the guy who suggested that. In fact, why don't we agree here and now that family is off limits?"

"Absolutely."

"I'm relieved as I have skeletons in the closet in that area. I'm wrapping up my third bitter divorce, and I have two grown sons who despise me. Another topic for banning – Ryan Hunter?"

"Gladly, but…are you sure? Before Joan convinced me Ryan was evil, he had me fooled into thinking he was a friend. Frequent reminders of my gullibility would harm my campaign."

Cyrus sighs. "This isn't well known, but I was briefly in business with Ryan. Shortly after he arrived in Arcadia, Ryan came to me with an ambitious business proposal. We would buy land around Mercer Creek, dam it and create a new lake. Not only would there be a new recreational resource, complete with luxury housing, but the dam would have supplied Arcadia with pollution free electricity."

"Sound like there was a lot of great potential in that project, except for Ryan's involvement. Since it obviously didn't happen, what went wrong?"

"The bane of modern existence – environmentalists. Our Green Party opponent, Norman Naylor, discovered an unknown subspecies of flower that grows only in the Mercer Creek Valley. A federal court order banned all development in the area which pleased Naylor, who is a fanatic that can't be reasoned with. Meanwhile, Arcadia still gets its' electricity from coal burning power plants, and we have the highest utility rates in the state."

"Did that end your association with Ryan?"

"Yes, thank God. Will, he had everyone fooled. The sooner we put the Ryan Hunter story behind us, the better."

"Agreed. Hey, I like this one-on-one way of deciding things. If I ran these options by my campaign staff, they would be arguing the ramifications for weeks. What next…debates? My people say I should push for plenty."

"Probably good advice…for you. I know you have experience with public speaking, but I don't. I'm use to small, private negotiations like this. In public I can barely manage a well rehearsed speech, but a debate…? I'd probably make a fool of myself."

"So no debates?"

Cyrus sighs. "I suppose, to keep the press off of my back, I should participate in a couple."

"Okay then, two debates – say, one in September and one in October?"

"Sounds acceptable. Just another one of the ordeals I have to endure for the campaign. It turns out, I'm a lousy candidate. I've never been a 'people person', and even though I believe I have good ideas, I'm ineffective in conveying them to the voters."

Will nods. "I get that. Even when I can get voters to listen to me, their eyes quickly glaze over. You can tell they're dismissing you as just another politician. I'm hoping that as the election gets closer, people will finally start to listen."

"Yes, it's hard to get people excited about a local election when the primary is in February and the election is in November, especially when they are distracted by the presidential race. Since the primary, I feel like I've been wasting my efforts trying to gain voter attention. I have a surprising amount of free time on my hands."

Will responds, "At least you have your company to keep you busy."

"And you picked up that part time job doing background checks for Homeland Security."

"How...do you know that?"

"The same way I know you just returned from a family reunion in Baltimore. I have a spy in your camp." (A look of outrage begins on Will's face, but Cyrus adds…) "And you have one in mine."

Will grins sheepishly. "Politics…I often wonder why I'm doing this."

"I imagine because local party leaders have urged you for years to run for office."

"That's part of the reason, but mostly it's because I now have a 13 month old daughter and my wife was concerned about me remaining a cop at this stage of our lives."

"But you miss it?"

"I do, but I'm hoping once I'm mayor, I'll grow to like that job. My greatest fear is that once I'm in office, I'll hate it and be stuck there with no options. It gives me nightmares. But in the meantime, the Homeland Security job helps me feel connected to my old life. But what about you, Cyrus? What motivated a very private, very successful businessman to run for office?"

Cyrus Cornwall hesitates, staring off into the distance. Will can tell he is forming a surprisingly heavy response to a light question…

"I admire you, Will. The press refers to you as a hero, and I agree. I'm the third generation head of my family's company, and I grew up in the midst of this city's cesspool of corruption. I remember the bitter stories my grandfather use to tell, and in my early training, I saw first hand my father having to knuckle under to the corrupt ess-oh-bees who ran Arcadia. It was disgusting and humiliating the way they treated this city's business leaders, especially in the area of real estate development. When I took over the company, I began focusing on projects outside the Arcadia area. Oh sure, I would occasionally encounter a politico with his hand out, but it was nothing like what routinely went on in this town. When you brought down the last mayor and his corrupt cronies, I cheered and threw a party."

Will smiles. "Glad to do it."

"In normal times Will, I not only wouldn't be running against you, I would have supported your campaign with a large check and my vote."

"You said: 'In normal times'. What's not normal about these times…?" (Cyrus looks away and Will feels a cold chill.) "You're campaign slogan: 'The experienced business leader Arcadia needs in hard times', it never made sense to me. The economy is booming and strong…isn't it?"

Cyrus grimly replies, "You know that I deal in malls, office buildings, vacation resorts and luxury housing, right? Quietly and as quickly as I can, I've been divesting myself of all of my holdings. A piece of advice, if you want to save the equity you've built up in your home, sell your house now."

Will gulps as he hears these words. Before deciding to run, he and Helen carefully discussed their finances, especially about if he lost and had trouble finding another job. The equity in their home was their last stand fallback plan…

"How bad is it?"

"The bubble is about to burst, Will. I've watched with alarm as unregulated greed has begun to treat mortgages as just another commodity to be bought and sold like pork bellies or oil futures. All of this wild buying and selling has inflated real estate values far beyond their true worth. It's all a house of cards, Will. I'm not the only one who has noticed and tried to speak reason, but there's just too much damn money to be made – so the madness continues, but not for much longer. I can see the cracks forming, and soon the dam will break."

Ignoring the mix of metaphors, Will asks, "How bad…?"

"Hard to say. A lot depends on how the politicans react and how quickly, but it's too late to prevent. It won't be as bad as the Great Depression, but it will be the worst recession of our lifetimes, and real estate will be hit especially hard. Figure a 30 percent drop in value…"

"Thirty percent!" Will gasps. (They only bought the Euclid Avenue house five years ago. A 30 percent drop in value would more than wipeout their equity.) "How soon?"

"That part is tricky. If it times out after the election, you'll win Will, and you'll have to deal with a city in crisis. If the bubble bursts before the election, and I think it will, then my message will seem wisely prophetic and the victory should be mine. You see Will, this is why I'm running against you. With my business experience, I truly believe I'm better equipped to guide Arcadia through the coming storm. It will be rough, and I'll have to make the hard decisions that will deny me any chance of re-election, but I'm willing to take the hit to save my hometown."

Will goes silent as they reach the first tee. Cyrus takes his shot, and it turns out he is as good as he says. Will realizes Cyrus has gotten everything he wanted in their little negotiation, so as he lines up his shot he pauses…

"How do I know you're not making all of this up just to psyche me out?"

"You don't, but what would be the point? My message is already out there, and if the coming economic crisis is delayed, I'll lose. I can live with that. 'Mayor' is not a title I ever wanted, but what about you, Will? Do you want to preside over a city whose future is endless budget cuts, lay-offs, long unemployment lines and soup kitchens? Maybe we should both quit the race and see if Norman Naylor has a 'green' solution to an economic meltdown."

Will takes his shot and as he watches his ball sail down the fairway, he wonders if he will be one of those standing in a long unemployment line…

X X X X X

HELEN

Noon/7-04-08

Helen Girardi sighs with pleasure as the hot shower helps work out the kinks in her right shoulder. It has been seven months since she was shot - seven months since her 'miracle' recovery. At least that's what the doctors call it. Despite the bullet's heavy damage to tissue and bone, there wasn't the tiniest bit of nerve damage. As a result, Helen is back painting portraits at high fees, and she is assured that she has an astounding 95 percent restoration of her shoulder's use. What Helen hasn't shared with her family is that her right shoulder is now her 'weak' shoulder. Normally right-handed, Helen now uses her left hand as much as possible so that she can extend her painting time before the achiness forces her to stop. Helen has discussed the problem with her doctors, but they can offer no encouragement. Physical therapy has taken her as far as it can, and she may have to face arthritis in the shoulder in the coming years. (Funny how TV shows regularly show their heroes being shot and fully recovered by the next epsiode. No one mentions potential arthritis from a gunshot.)

Helen reluctantly turns off the pulsating stream of hot, steamy water and steps out of the shower. As she grabs a towel, Helen does notice that her shoulder feels much better. She has an ointment she will apply that smells awful, but provides the heat needed to prevent the shoulder from stiffening up. Fortunately the smell fades quickly, which is good because she has a lot to do today. As she towels off, Helen catches a glimpse of herself in the full length mirror. For the most part she is not displeased by what she sees, even though she has recently turned 48. Ever since Eleanor was born, she and Will have been on a health kick with careful diets, regular exercise and even tai chi to keep limber. And now that she is offically in menopause, with no worries about another late-in-life child, Will has been...frisky. Helen smiles as she remembers her and Will last night, and the quickie this morning before he left for golf.

As Helen applies the ointment, she glares at the surprisingly small scar on her shoulder. Considering that the wound nearly cost her life, you would think it would be bigger - but to Helen, the dratted thing is huge and ugly. It has caused a major revision in her wardrobe so as to hide the scar - an inconvenience during hot summer days. There are a couple of planned campaign stops this evening for 4th of July celebrations, and she is expected to play the part of the dutiful, smiling candidate's wife. Once again Helen feels a regret about talking Will into trying for the mayor's office, but it is too late to back out now. At least the campaign is going well, and Will seems a shoo-in for the office. Once he has secured the high paying job, she will be able to cut back on her portrait work.

Of course Helen realizes that even though her local fame as a portrait artist began with the painting she did of Ryan Hunter, the unusually high demand for her work has a lot to do with Will's run for mayor. Many seek her out because of her reputation for great portrait work, but many more are hoping the 5,000 dollar fee she charges will gain them some favor with the city's next mayor. Too bad for them, she never discusses with Will who buys her work. Once people begin to realize all their money is buying them is an excellent painting, no doubt the unending demand for her work will go back to a more normal level.

Slipping on a robe, Helen enters the bedroom and automatically checks on the playpen where Eleanor is busy playing with her collection of shiny toys. One of the constants in Eleanor's life is her facination with bright, reflective items. Helen is careful not to wear her diamonds when Eleanor is around because she knows her tiny daughter would never stop crying until she had her greedy hands on them. This has been a rare good day with Eleanor (despite the rest of the family, Helen resists the 'E.T.' nickname Joan placed on her sister). Some things fascinate Eleanor, and for some reason her mother's portrait work is one of them. She happily watches for hours as Helen creates a portrait of another person, but curiously, she has no interest in any other type of painting. Helen has begun to worry about her youngest daughter and her peculiar ways. Although 13 months old, Eleanor seems to have a smaller than usual vocabulary - at least compared to her siblings at this age. It's not that Eleanor seems...challenged, she just doesn't seem to have much interest in talking to others.

"Hey sweetie, are you being good for Mommy?"

Eleanor briefly glances up at her mother and then returns to her toys. She only seems to want to interact with others when she wants something. Helen looks at her daughter's assortment of toys and gasps when she spots the latest item. Just before her shower Helen looked for something to amuse Eleanor so that she could enjoy her time with the hot water undisturbed. Unable to find anything new that was shiny, she grabbed an old Rubik's Cube from the junk drawer. It is one of those minature ones that Helen used to carry on her key chain, but it works the same as the full sized ones. Helen briefly showed Eleanor how the toy works and then took her shower. All of the colors on the cube were thoroughly mixed, but now the puzzle has been solved - all of the sides have one color only! Is it possible for a 13 month old child to correctly work the cube? Certainly Luke couldn't have done such a thing at this age, but maybe Annie...

"Eleanor, how did you do this?" Helen asks as she picks up the cube.

"Mine!"

E.T. glares at her mother and holds out her hand demanding the toy back. E.T. has a highly developed sense of ownership, and once an item is hers, it is her forever - even if she has no real interest in it. Helen quickly rotates the color lines in a random pattern and hands the cube back to her daughter. E.T. looks annoyed and rapidly works the cube again until all of the sides are back to one color.

"Eleanor...you're smart - a little anal, but smart!"

E.T. igores her mother's comment, carefully places the cube off to the side, and resumes playing with a silver bell. She has no interest in the opinions of others.

Helen continues smiling as she anticipates being able to tell Will the good news about their youngest. At least this news is something she can share with her husband, unlike Eleanor's last accomplishment. Back in late May while attending her nephew Simon's funeral, his ghost appeared to say his farewells. Of course she and Joan saw him, but surprisingly, Eleanor was also able to interact with her cousin's ghost. No, Will is definitely not ready to hear that kind of news. Helen wonders if this type of spiritual interaction is a sign God also has special plans for Eleanor...?

"Want juice." E.T. announces, fully expecting her wishes to be obeyed.

"Okay sweetie, as soon as Mommy gets dressed."

E.T. sighs but doesn't make a fuss. She is learning her servants are an inefficient bunch and there are frequent, unwarranted delays in obedience. She will try to be patient since the Mommy-servant spent the morning amusing her. The thing she does with paint - creating people - confirms E.T.'s view of the world. People are objects that are made, and only she is a real person.

The phone rings... "Hello? Oh, good afternoon Dr. Teller. Yes, I finished your wife's portrait and I will deliver it..."

"Mommy...juice!"

"Eleanor, shh...I'm on the phone. Sorry Dr. Teller, I was interrupted by my little girl. Yes the painting turned out..."

"Mommy!"

"Turned out well."

"Mommy, Mommy...!"

"No, I'm sorry I won't be able to attend..."

"Want juice now!"

"Your party - the campaign, you see..."

"MOMMY!"

"E.T., shut up!"

To Helen's surprise, Eleanor obeys. Her baby daughter turns away, arms folded and angry, but there is no outbreak of tears. Maybe she's too stunned at being yelled at to react?

"Thank you for understanding, Dr. Teller. I'll see you in a couple of hours."

Helen hangs up the phone and stares in amazement at her still silent daughter. Helen can almost see waves of pure rage rising from her child, but E.T. continues to obey. Helen experiences a sudden revealation. Unlike with her other children, this special daughter of hers will require a very firm hand in her upbringing. In the years to come, she may even have to...(gulp) spank E.T. when the occasion demands - something she never did with her other kids. But if E.T. is to ever have a chance of learning right from wrong, of behaving normally, she will need a consistent, disciplined approach that spells out the consequences of her life choices. Another piece of news to share with Will and the rest of the family...

To Be Continued.


	2. Chapter 2

INDEPENDENCE TWO

LUKE

7-4-08/Friday afternoon.

Luke Girardi breathes a sigh of relief as he enters the air-conditioning of Skylight Books. He exchanges a nod with Sammy at the cash register. Even though in years past he used to fill in for Joan at the store, he and Sammy have never had more than a nodding acquaintence. Knowing the store well, Luke heads for the children's section and quickly locates the book he is seeking. He pauses as he begins to read…

A voice remarks, "'Ramona Quimby, Age 8'? I never would have guessed which way your reading tastes went."

Luke looks through the shelf of books and sees on the other side a girl about his age that looks familiar.

"Bonnie…?"

Luke steps around the book case and sees Bonnie is busy stacking shelves.

"Is that really you? Wow, what a change…"

"Yeah, it's me – just like a bad penny, I keep showing up."

For a few moments, approaching the point of rudeness, Luke stares at his old high school's official Easy Lay – the girl guys went to when they were so desperate for sex, they were willing to scrape rock bottom. No one ever bragged about nailing Bonnie, who was considered lower than a prostitute. If even half of the rumors about her were true, Bonnie slept with at least a hundred guys during her four years at Arcadia High…including Adam Rove.

"I like your new look."

"Thank you Luke, I've been working hard to change my image and lifestyle."

For a moment Luke wonders if it is appropriate for a married man to compliment a girl who once tried to seduce him. (Footnote.) But it is true, Bonnie does look better and…smells better than when he knew her in high school. Back then Bonnie dressed shabbily, had greasy hair and often had B.O. She bathed rarely, had a furtive – desperate look and her whole persona proclaimed: 'I have low self-esteem, come use me'. Now her hair is shorter, a shade lighter, stylish and clean. She wears a simple floral print dress and a light perfume, and most of all, her persona now exudes happiness and hope.

"Luke, you're staring." Bonnie says with a slight blush.

"Sorry, but this is a lot to take in. It's like you're a completely different person. So, you work here now?"

From the front counter Sammy calls out, "If you can call what she does working."

Bonnie laughs lightly and responds, "Oh Sammy, you know you love me because I give you a hundred and ten percent."

With a rare smile Sammy retorts, "There should be a decimal point in that number somewheres."

"I'm taking my break now, okay?"

As Sammy shrugs his okay Bonnie asks, "Join me for a free cup of semi-drinkable coffee? It's rare that I get a chance to talk to an old classmate."

"Uh, sure." Luke mumbles as he follows Bonnie to the lounge area and they both get coffee. As they sit side by side Luke again wonders how appropriate this is, especially since he knows how jealous Grace can get, but his curiosity has to be satisfied.

"I guess you're wondering what happened to me?" Bonnie asks with a teasing smile.

"Very much so."

"Shortly after graduation, in fact on my 18th birthday, my parents were arrested for dealing pot."

"Really? I thought they ran an organic greenhouse."

"That was the cover story, but it was all a front for their marijuana business. For years they sold the highest quality gonja in town."

"I had no idea."

Bonnie smiles again and Luke guiltily notices that it is a very pretty smile. "Well, it was a secret, being illegal and all. Anyway, that began the change in my life. The cops had my parents nailed but good, and they both got five years and some heavy fines. The courts seized their greenhouse business and the substantial amount of cash they built up over the years. Suddenly I found myself out on the streets homeless and penniless."

"How awful."

"Yeah, that about sums it up. I probably would have ended up a whore…which wouldn't have been that big of a change for me, but I was lucky enough to stumble upon a women's homeless shelter run by a local church. They helped me find a job and supported me until I could afford to get a place of my own."

"That was nice of them."

"True, even though they saw it as just another religious duty, and there was a price to pay: endless sermons, bible study, church attendance, tithing and so on. But out of all of that I began to look at my life and realized I had been using my parents as my excuse for all of my bad choices. Did you ever wonder how I ended up the skank of the century?"

"I never really gave it any thought. I just assumed that was the way you were."

"Well, basically, from the time I was ten my parents left me to raise myself. I never lacked for anything except for their guidance and attention. I became desperate for someone to notice me, to care that I existed. When I was 12, there was this boy in our building who was 14 and…he noticed me. I was so grateful for even a little affection, I…gave him what he wanted." Bonnie pauses, her voice quivering. She swallows hard and continues. "That began my new lifestyle, selling my body in exchange for attention, kind words and the usual bull guys whisper in your ear when they want sex. In a way, I was a whore for most of my life."

"Bonnie…"

"I'm sorry, I see I'm making you uncomfortable. But hey, the story gets better. I caught the 'religion fever' big time and went about condemning others for their sins. I also quit smoking. I became hard working with one full time and two part time jobs, and I even went back to school."

"Joan mentioned she has occasionally seen you at Arcadia College."

"Yeah, I've seen Joan more than a few times, but I do my best to avoid her. I know she still resents me over Adam. That mess left all of us with a lot of hard feelings."

"High school stuff…"

"Often follows us for years. Fortunately, my schedule is different from Joan's, so avoiding her isn't too hard. Arcadia College offers an associate degree in commercial artistry, and I've been taking as many night classes as I can afford."

"While condemning your fellow student's sins?"

Bonnie smiles again. "No, I gave that up. Earlier this year I finally figured out the difference between religion and faith. You might say I found God, or that he found me. Since then my life is better. I now know I have someone who loves and cares for me. Don't worry, I'm not about to get preachy."

Luke smiles back. "Actually, since our high school days, I've turned to God. I reguarly attend mass and I'm confident of God's existence and love. But don't worry, I'm not about to get preachy."

They both chuckle and Bonnie responds, "I'm glad, Luke. You were always one of the good guys. When I said earlier I don't often get to talk with an old classmate, I didn't mean I don't run into them on a regular basis. They tend to ignore me…or call me names. So what about you? How is your life? I know you married Grace and that you have a kid."

Luke reaches for his phone and begins showing photos of his daughter. "Her name is Annie, age twenty two months, and she brings pure joy to my life."

"She's beautiful, and being your daughter, I'll bet she's smart. But watch out, the 'terrible twos' are coming up."

"Actually, they have arrived early. Ever since we got back to town…we usually live in Boston so I can attend M.I.T., Annie's new favorite word is 'NO'. For the first time she has begun to disobey us, and has become unusually obstinate and rebellious."

"That must be difficult to deal with, especially if you are not use to that sort of behavior. Are your parents helping? They must have a lot of experience with this sort of thing."

"This summer, for the first time, we are living with Grace's parents. Both sets of parents help to support us, and it only seemed fair that the Polonskys got a chance to spend a lot of time with Annie."

"And of course your family is busy with your dad's campaign. I noticed the flyers you were carrying."

"When I'm not busy with the little I.T. business Friedman and I run for spending money, I go door to door encouraging people to vote for my Dad."

"Hmm, I also noticed a little tension in your voice when you mentioned staying with your in-laws. Is that one of the reasons why you spend so much time away from their place?"

Luke looks guiltily about and lowers his voice. "Just between us?"

"Promised."

"Okay, I like my in-laws. They're nice people and they love Annie enormously, but…living with them has been a bit of a strain. Their lifestyle is so much more formal than what I'm use to, and I keep making these blunders about various Jewish customs… When I'm in their home I feel like a barely tolerated visitor, which I know isn't true…"

"But you can't help your feelings. I wonder, do you think Annie may be picking up on your tension and that is making her go into her 'NO' mode?"

Luke pauses, his mind going over the suggestion. "Wow, I never considered…of course, Annie is very intelligent. I fully expect her I.Q. to exceed mine. It's possible she has picked up a sense of what I've been feeling and is reacting with her own negativity."

"Plus, and I can tell you this from long experience, when daddy suddenly starts disappearing for long stretches, it can make a little girl misbehave."

"I think you have a valid point. But what can I do, other than spending more time with her?"

"You say that she's smart?"

Luke holds up the Beverly Cleary book. "I got this for Annie."

"She likes you to read Ramona Quimby books to her?"

"No, she reads them herself." (Luke smiles as he sees Bonnie's astonished expression.) "This is one I promised her awhile back, and I thought it might help smooth things over between us. The other day Annie tried to climb the stairs to the second floor all by herself, even though we have told her over and over she is too little and must have an adult help her. She almost made it to the top when she grew tired and lost her balance. Thank God Grace had just awakened from a nap and…by some instinct knew Annie needed help. Grace got there just in time to save Annie from falling."

"How frightening."

"Oh, we were in a panic. Of course we punished her. We gave Annie a time out, no dessert for a week, and a very firm lecture. Normally Annie accepts her punishments on the rare occasions when we have to give them, but this time she just looked at me and said: 'You're mean.' It nearly broke my heart."

Bonnie tries not to smile as she can see that Annie has her daddy wrapped around her little finger. "And did she promise not to climb the stairs again on her own?"

"We tried to elicit such a promise, but she kept saying 'NO', that she was a big girl and could climb stairs. It has been like that all summer…ever since we moved into the Polonsky home. I hate to think my social awkwardness around my in-laws may be causing this."

"It might be just one factor. After all, Annie is getting near the age when a little rebellion naturally begins. If I may suggest, the next time you have one of those NO's from her, ask Annie: Why? If she is as smart as you say, getting her to reason out her responses might make them a lot less of a knee jerk reaction. Let Annie defend her position, and if she has a valid point, consider letting her have her own way."

Luke smiles hugely. "I like it, and I should have thought of this myself. Annie is different from other kids, and I should challenge her intellectually. This will give her the sense of control a child that age seeks, and I'm reasonably certain I can win most disputes with her."

Bonnie smiles back. "I'm sure you can…for now.

Luke chuckles and offers his hand to Bonnie. "Thank you. This was a wonderful insight and I can't wait to give it a try. I wish I could linger, but I'm meeting Grace. See ya around, Bonnie."

"Goodbye, Luke."

Luke goes to the cash register and pays for 'Ramona Quimby, Age 8'. As he exits the store, he holds open the door for an elderly woman who somehow looks familiar. The old lady goes over to Bonnie and takes the seat Luke just vacated.

"So how did I do?" Bonnie asks.

"Excellent work, Bonnie. I know it was painful sharing so much from your past, but it helped Luke to open up about his own problem." Old Lady God replies.

"And all of this was to help his little girl Annie?"

"Annie Girardi is a very special child that I have big plans for. Unfortunately along with her father's genius, she has inherited her mother's stubborness. Annie was even resisting listening to me, all due to an unhappiness she senses but is not yet old enough to verbalize. This will help get things back on track, and Luke can stop worrying so much."

Sammy calls out, "Break is over."

Bonnie shrugs. "Duty calls."

As Bonnie heads back to her shelving duties, Old Lady God whispers, "And I have good plans for you too."

(Footnote: The Bonnie/Luke attempted seduction appears in my story, OR THE TIGER.)

X X X X X

KEVIN

7-4-08/Sunset, L.A. time.

Kevin Girardi and Barbara Greyson lovingly cuddle after having very carefully made love. Between Kevin's weak back and Barbara being in her 8th month of pregnancy, vigorous love making just isn't practical. That is okay with them - this is a time of reconnecting and reaffirming their love.

"I really missed you." Barbara whispers.

"You sound surprised."

"I guess I am. Oh, I knew I had become reasonably fond of you, but I hadn't realized how much you had gotten under my skin. Without you here I actually felt...incomplete."

"Aww, you did miss me. Of course, who could blame you for missing someone as great as me?" Kevin says with a grin.

"But I didn't miss the ego."

"Baby, it's not ego if it's all true."

Barbara chuckles and snuggles closer. "I wish I could have gone with you."

"Me too. Everyone was disappointed that you couldn't make it, but they understood that your doctor recommended against flying."

"Did they also understand that you emotionally blackmailed me into staying with Step-dad while you were away?"

"What a harsh interpretation of my loving gesture to make sure you were safe and well cared for."

"You said you wouldn't go to your family reunion if I didn't agree to stay with someone. I knew how important this reunion was to you and your family, so what else could I do but agree to stay with John?"

"Was it really so horrible?"

"No, of course not. John played the doting grandfather-to-be, and I had a chance to get to know his new family better."

"New family? Did John and Elaine...?"

"Get married? Not yet, but he has proposed to her and she said yes. Soon Elaine Lishack will be the next Mrs. John Hunter. And thanks to you, I had ten days in which to get to bond with Elaine, and I've decided I like her. She will make John a good wife, and I know he loves her and her daughter Emily."

"Yeah, but Emily Lishack already has a father - Dana Tuchman."

"I know, I met him too, along with his new bride. By the way, she's already pregnant. Tuchman seems happy about the arrangement. Since he lives in Pasadena, he will get to see Emily more often, and the new Mrs. Tuchman seems relieved that Dana's ex-lover is finally getting married. It's a win - win."

"Do you worry John is rushing into this? At this time last year he was engaged to Felicity Brewster."

"I liked Felicity and was willing to accept her, but honestly...there was always something odd about her. I think Step-dad has made a much better match, and I know he's happy. But hey, I want to know about your trip. How did the reunion go?"

"I called you every day."

"And talked mostly about how I was doing. The little you said about the reunion made me think you were holding back. I want the gory details."

"I wasn't holding back so much as reserving judgement until it was over. This whole reunion was one of Joan's schemes, and you never know how her goofy ideas will turn out."

"I know Joan has been trying to reconcile your father and his half-brother for years. So, spill..."

"It was awkward and weird, but in the end it turned out fairly good. We all met in Baltimore at Uncle Richard's house, or perhaps I should say mansion. Not only is Uncle Richard a very successful doctor, but he inherited a ton of money from his maternal grandparents. That was always one of the problems between Dad, Aunt Theresa and Richard. After Grandpa Gerald divorced our grandmother, his fortunes rose while Grandma Eleanor's sank. Dad endured poverty while Richard lived the good life, and Dad became obsessed with the disparity in their lives. To him Richard became the favored son who got everything while he and Theresa were left with nothing. He always felt that Richard replaced him in Grandpa's heart."

"That's why he kept Richard's existence a secret from you and your siblings all of those years? That's uh..."

"Whacked. Yeah, over time Dad has come to understand how wrong he was to do that. A big part of this mess was Grandma Eleanor's influence. She took the concept of 'bitter divorce' to new heights and strongly influenced how Dad and Theresa thought about Grandpa Gerald and his new family."

"Did everything get resolved?"

"Sorta. It got off to a rocky start. Dad didn't want to be there, but Mom and Joan and even Aunt Theresa leaned on him hard to come and finally resolve this family feud. Cetainly Uncle Richard was all for it, but his wife, my Aunt Claire, was just going through the motions. She has heard for years how Dad treated Richard, and she had her mind made up not to like Will Girardi. Fortunately, Joan has been visiting Baltimore off and on for years and Claire has grown to like Joan - go figure. Joan...sort of orchestrated the whole thing - rushing from person to person always knowing the right thing to say when feelings were getting out of control. It was touchy and tough, but in the end Dad and Richard were talking and getting along okay. They may never be best buds, but most of the old hard feelings have been dealt with."

"I'm glad. But what about you? How did this reunion affect you?"

"Well, I didn't have as much emotionally invested as the older generation, but I was happy to see things ending well. I know this mess has had Dad emotionally torn up for years, and I could almost see the stress, guilt and anger being lifted from his shoulders. So I guess kudos to Joan. Going in I would have called it mission impossible, but some how my crazy sister pulled it off. As for me, it was weird but kinda nice. I got to meet a stepgrandmother I didn't know, a new aunt and a couple of young cousins - Randy and Rhonda who are both in middle school. Plus, I got to know Uncle Richard, although he and Luke were the ones who bonded the most. Talk about nerds of a feather. Of course Annie was everyone's favorite while E.T. just cried a lot."

"Well, next reunion, we will wow them with our son."

Kevin smiles hugely and gently caresses Barbara's midsection. "I still feel awestruck every time I think of that. In just a month, we are going to have a son!"

"And I can finally stop feeling like a beached whale. I know some women say they enjoy being pregnant, but to me it has been an ordeal I just have to endure. I'm looking forward to our little one, but frankly the process sucks."

"Speaking of the little one...want to try one more time to pick a name?"

Barbara groans, "Again? We've been through every name in existence and nothing seems right."

"We could try some old fashioned ways of picking a name. Like, it use to be traditional to name a boy after whoever was president when he was born."

"There is no way in hell I'm naming my kid after George Bush!"

Kevin chuckles. "Yeah, I thought that wouldn't fly. Okay, how about the traditional naming after the grandfathers?"

"Problem there. My real Dad's name is 'Hiram', which he shortens to 'Hi'. I wouldn't want to stick our kid with a name like that."

"We could name our boy after your stepfather and my Dad: John William or William John."

"Both good names, but if I use John's name and don't use Hi's, that'll cause problems. How about a junior? We could name him Kevin."

"Except he wouldn't be a junior since he will be born a Greyson. Unless you'd like to get married right away? After all, you did promise to marry me."

"In ten years if we are still together and happy. Only nine and a half years to go. But do you really mind our son being born a Greyson?"

"I guess I have enough of an ego to want my kid to carry my name."

"We could call him 'Girardi Greyson'."

"Ouch, what a handle to stick a kid with, but...'Greyson Girardi' doesn't sound so bad."

"Same problem, he will be born with my last name."

"Unless..."

"What?"

"Don't freak out, but if we entered into a domestic partnership arrangement, we could name him after either one of us, or even use a hyphenated name."

"This sounds like an end run around my marriage hang up. Domestic partnerships are marriages in all but name."

"Well yeah...but it could make things run a lot smoother between us. Not only is it recognized in law, but it gives the same rights as married couples. For instance, if I suddenly became ill and had to be rushed to the hospital..."

"Bite your tongue."

"From say, biting my tongue, and I wasn't able to make any medical decisions, the hospital would have to call my parents to get permission to treat me. With a domestic partnership, you would get to make those choices."

"So I could tell them to pull the plug?"

"From a bit tongue?"

"It would depend on how I was feeling about you that day. And you could do the same for me...and our child. There wouldn't be any confusion if you had to suddenly rush junior to the hospital or just attend a parent - teacher conference."

"Is that a yes I hear forming?"

"It's a maybe. Give me a couple of days to think about it, you manipulator. In the meantme, we can pencil in 'Greyson Girardi' at the top of the baby name list."

"Definitely a cool name. Maybe he'll be a movie star someday."

"Speaking of movie stars, how was your side trip to New York?"

"Pointless. When our esteemed executive producer told me show biz's latest power couple were interested in appearing on our show, I thought it was a great deal. I wined and dined the famous duo for a couple of days, and it turns out they are both huge fans of 'Improper'."

"So you got them for the show? That will make Mr. Blair happy."

"Jarrod will have to be disappointed. We were about to sign on the dotted line when their posse of sycophants and advisers told them it was a mistake for movie stars to lower themselves to the level of television. Those two big stars knuckled under to the pressure in nothing flat."

"So, no ratings busting superstars for sweeps week? I guess we will have to soldier on with only great writing and directing, including yours truly as the new first assistant director."

"Yes, I heard about your promotion. Congratulations."

"Thank you. Of course this means I'll be starting back to work almost as soon as the baby is born."

"What about bonding time with our newborn?"

"I still will, it's just going to have to come in smaller doses than we expected. You did agree to a nanny because of our work schedules."

"Yeah I know, but sometimes I wonder if we aren't going down the cliche Hollywood path of having a kid that's messed up because we turned his raising over to strangers."

"Hey, I'm a Hollywood kid. Am I messed up?"

"Asks the woman who wants a ten year long engagement."

Barbara gives Kevin a playful smack to the shoulder. "Our son will be fine. Hi Greyson may have been a disaster as a father, but my Mom and John showed me what good parenting is, and your parents are nearly perfect."

"Nearly?"

"A father who hid the existence of a brother for years...?"

"Point taken. Okay, I will trust that the examples we had growing up will guide us into nearly perfect parenting."

Kevin and Barbara kiss a couple of times and then resume cuddling close. The moments tick by in companionable silence until Barbara asks...

"So, were you planning to tell me about Lily?"

Kevin hesitates before asking, "How did you find out?"

"Hi's TV show Rapid Dough is based out of New York, and most of his staff know both me and you. If you want to date one of your exes, you shouldn't do it in public."

"It wasn't a date. It was just two old friends meeting for lunch in a very public place."

"Two ex-lovers meeting for lunch at your hotel."

"Lily and I never... She had this idea she wanted to wait for the wedding night, being an ex-nun. Besides, she cheated on me when we were engaged."

"After you cheated on her with me."

"Uh...yeah. That was one of the reasons Lily wanted to meet. She saw in the tabloids I was visiting New York and wanted to get together for some closure on our old issues."

"And the reason you didn't tell me about this was...?"

"To avoid this conversation and that very suspicious tone I hear in your voice. Believe me, all we did was talk and then go our seperate ways."

"Uh-huh...and how is Mrs. Delano?"

"Divorced."

"Oh really...?"

"There's that tone again. Really Barbara, all we did was the I'm-sorry-I hurt-you routine and then caught up on our lives. I told her about the baby, and she told me about going to college to get a degree in social work. We parted with a handshake. Scout's honor." Kevin says while holding up three fingers.

"You were never a scout. But you do have a long history of cheating on girlfriends. I don't want you seeing any more exes, at least not without telling me about it. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am, I swear. You know that I love you, right? I'm not the same dumb kid who use to think cheating was just one of those things. I'm yours and only yours forever."

Barbara smiles and gives Kevin a kiss. "If I didn't believe that, instead of cuddling here naked, I would have had a hidden knife or chainsaw or something to cut off any chance of you ever cheating on anyone again."

"Chainsaw? Wow. Then I guess it's a good thing that part of my life is over."

"And a better part is begining." Barbara says, her concerns satisfied as she guides Kevin's hand to her stomach so he can feel the baby kicking...

To Be Continued.

Please review.


	3. Chapter 3

JOAN

7-4-08/One hour before sunset, Hawaii time.

The Leilehua Plateau dominates central Oahu, but the vast area is mostly underdeveloped. The military controls large tracts of land, and a lot has been set aside as nature preserves. Still, there are a few scattered housing developments, and using her rental car's GPS, Joan locates the isolated cul de sac she is seeking. Travelling up, Joan heads for the house at the top of the hill. The houses on this street are small – mostly two bedroom/one bath, but this being Hawaii, they cost as much as the Girardi house back in Arcadia.

Joan parks at the curb and as soon as she leaves the car she is almost overwhelmed by the level of demonic activity in this area. Demons of varying ranks are patrolling about in broad daylight, which is unusual as they prefer the night or at least dark shadows. The dominant being is a violence demon – pretty high up on the power scale. These creatures never bother posessing a single indvidual, but rather they specialize in stirring violent moods in groups leading to things like lynchings, riots and mass murder. Although powerful, the violence demon is not beyond Joan's ability to handle. Curiously, the foul thing does not automatically retreat from the presence of an instrument of God. Perhaps it realizes Joan is too focused on her task at hand to bother with it.

As Joan nears the driveway she pauses as she knows this is not a house she can casually approach. Unseen by the eyes of ordinary people, a spiritual shield surrounds the hilltop house, keeping out all of those with a strong spiritual nature such as demons and…instruments of God. But Joan can tell that at one time the shield was much larger, encompassing the entire neighborhood. Steady pressure from the growing army of demons has caused the shield to slowly retreat in order to maintain its' integrity. Clearly there is something or someone in this house that the demons desperately want. While this quiet, remote neighborhood goes about its' mundane business, a war is being fought right outside their doors.

The trip from Honolulu wasn't that long, but Joan has arrived late in the day because she needed time to prepare for this moment. After hours of prayer and meditation, Joan is at the peak of her abilities – hopefully ready to penetrate the shield she must get through. Taking the silver cross lovingly given her by God, Joan places the item of her focused faith against the shield. At once the shield begins to waver and Joan steps forward. But the shield is a lot thicker than Joan anticipated and she finds she can not breathe while in it. Fighting off the natural urge to panic, Joan continues to advance through what seems to her to be a massive wall of jello. Finally through, Joan gasps for air even as she becomes aware of a rapidly approaching danger. Joan turns and sees the violence demon charging with astonishing speed. Joan holds up her cross and the combination of God's love and her faith is more than the blob of dark energy can endure. It screeches in dismay and retreats even faster than it attacked. The shield closes.

Joan mumbles, "Okay, I'm in. Let's hope I can get back out."

Joan walks up to the house – a charming, well cared for place with a wraparound porch. Joan rings the bell and a moment later a distant voice calls out…

"We're around the back!"

Using the porch that encircles the house, Joan heads for the backyard, but before Joan can take more than a few steps, the voice adds…

"Fair warning, we're naked."

Joan sighs heavily and continues her journey. There is a pool in the backyard, and as warned, the couple there are naked. The man naps in a poolside lounger, soaking up the last of the day's rays. The sun sensitive woman sits in a chair on the shaded porch. Joan has interrupted her reading of a stack of gossip magazines…

"Joan Girardi, what a surprise to see you here at my home…UNINVITED."

"Hello Hester."

Joan met Hester Rodney months ago during their mutual appearance on the game show 'Rapid Dough'. Hester is an albino over six feet tall, thin to the point of boniness with small breasts and a plain face. She is also a 'grey' witch – a being who precariously exists balanced between the forces of light and darkness, drawing on the spiritual energy of both to produce magic that can manipulate people and to a limited extent, the material world. Hester's emphasis on Joan being uninvited at her home is a warning. Strong spiritual laws govern the treatment of invited guests, but the uninvited are open to attack.

Joan can't help but glance at Hester's invited guest, the naked man still snoozing by the pool. He is an impressive example of masculinity – long, lean and muscular with a great all over tan. Only his face is obscured by a straw hat. Joan feels an automatic stirring within herself as her hormonal 20 year old body reminds her that it has been months since she was last touched by a man. It seems impossible that a guy like this would be involved with Hester Rodney, but Joan recalls that the grey witch occasionally casts seduction spells on beautiful young men who normally wouldn't touch her with a ten foot pole. Speaking of which…hello Mr. Happy.

"Really Joan, did you come all the way to Hawaii just to stare at my guy's penis?"

Joan blushes deeply and replies, "I'm here on a mission for God."

"So I guessed, but what has that to do with me? My home is neutral – a spiritual Switzerland."

"Is that neutrality why hundreds of demons are practically pounding on your front foor?"

"There has been a slight misunderstanding that has weakened my neutral status for the moment, but I have it under control. Now Joan, don't stand there looking so formal and official. Relax…strip down and take a dip in the pool. I'll open some wine and then you, me and the stud muffin can explore all of the possibilities of a threeway."

A mental image of that proposed event flashes in Joan's mind and it is all that she can do not to gag. Joan realizes Hester is manipulating her, perhaps for simple amusement or perhaps for a more sinister reason…?

"Stop it!" Joan warns, her hand automatically going to the cross around her neck.

"Aww, you brought your faith focus, your talisman. My, isn't it a big one, but mine is bigger." Hester says with a leer as she points at the young man. "Come now Joan, the sexual frustration you are carrying around dominates your aura. If another girl is a deal breaker, then feel free to enjoy this delicious guy all to yourself. I'll just watch…"

Again a mental image appears in Joan's mind - this time Joan and the young man are entwined, bodies sweating while they experience an amazing rhythmic pleasure... Joan gasps, finding it more difficult to return to reality this time. She must break the witch's concentration. Joan grabs one of the chairs, lifts it above her head and charges Hester with a scream. The startled witch tumbles out of her chair in fright...

"What the hell is going on?"

The shout comes from the man by the pool. He is angry and obviously concerned by what he sees. Joan gulps, feeling like a misbehaving child caught in naughtiness...

"Hey Dylan." Joan says as she puts down the chair.

Dylan Hunter scowls at Joan as Hester rises to her feet.

"Hester, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, sweetie. I was just having a little fun with Joan and she took it way too seriously. Sorry we disturbed you. Can I get you anything?"

"I'm down to my last beer."

"I'll get more." Hester says as she quickly scoots into the house.

Joan watches as Dylan takes a canned beer from a cooler, opens it and swallows down about half with a satisfied 'ah'. He reclines again, once more covering his face with his straw hat. Joan tries to not be offended by the obvious snub.

"Since when do you drink?"

"None of your business."

"You're a hard man to track down, Dylan Hunter."

"And you couldn't take the hint? What are you doing here, Joan?"

"I've been trying to reach you for months."

"I know - I've been ignoring you. That's why I didn't respond to your phone calls, text messages, e-mails, snail mail and personal notes delivered by Kevin and my Dad. Get a clue Joan, we're done."

Joan fights back the tears. She would leave now if she couldn't read Dylan's soul. She knows that he is in great pain, heartbroken and angry, but most of all she knows deep down he still loves her.

Joan starts with that, "You still love me."

Dylan hesitates a long time before replying, "Less and less every day. It's a process. You know how you were always concerned because I loved you more than you loved me? Well, that's over. In time you'll be completely out of my system. Be sure to apologize to Hester before you go."

So saying, Dylan flops over onto his stomach to add to the tan on his backside. 'A very cute backside' Joan thinks as she wipes away the latest tears she has shed over Dylan. Joan takes one more read on his soul and confirms her worse fear - he is not under a spell. Although he doesn't love her, Dylan is with the witch voluntarily.

Unsure of what to do next, Joan enters the house and finds Hester adding ice to another cooler filled with cans of beer. At least the witch has covered her chalk white skin with a short robe.

"Settle everything?" Hester asks with a smirk.

"Apparently Dylan has lost his mind. You know he doesn't love you, right?"

"You forget Joan, I can read people even better than you. Lover boy is at best slightly fond of me."

"Then why are you with him, jumping at his beck and call?"

"The 'jumping' is how our couples' dynamic has worked out. You've only experienced the nice guy side of him. I get the darkest part of his soul, which works for us. Being a witch, I've never been dominated by a man before. I find it...exhilirating."

Because of the duality of her nature, Hester is normally very hard to read, but some things come through clearly. Joan experiences the same excited tingle that goes through Hester as she contemplates the rough, demanding, in-charge Dylan that she...loves? No, that's impossible. A grey witch must keep her life evenly balanced between good and bad/light and dark. Tip too much toward the dark and she will tumble in - her soul damned for all time. Tip too much toward the light and she will tumble away from her powers forever. True love would be an irreversible leap into the light.

"I know Dylan isn't under a spell, so how did the two of you hook up?"

"The end of May he called ahead - take the hint, and asked to stop by. I hadn't given Dylan much thought since I failed to seduce him when we were all in New York. We met here, did the usual chitchat thing...he admired my artwork." (Hester points to the next room. Joan glances in and sees a half dozen of Hester's paintings.) "What do you think?"

Joan shrugs. "They're dark and disturbing."

"Thanks, that's what I was going for. My work is in high demand with high prices."

"Demand being aided by the spells attached to them?"

Hester smiles. "A girl has to eat."

"You were telling me about Dylan."

"Oh right. At that first meeting Dylan boldly stated he was looking for a chance to shack up for awhile. I thought: 'Woo-hoo, great sex with the hottest guy I've ever met, and I don't even have to cast a spell'. So I invited him into my home and bed. Big mistake."

"Mistake?"

"Don't get me wrong, it started out as great as I had hoped, but I never expected it to last so long. My previous voluntary relationship record is six days. The witch lifestyle tends to freak most guys out. But with Dylan it has been 'woo-hoo' morning, noon and night - actually, twice at night. Once just before he goes out demon hunting, and then again when he gets back."

"Dylan goes demon hunting at night?" Joan asks with concern.

"Yeah...that's one of the problems. It seems you instruments of God are suppose to get 'assignments' on a regular basis, but since Dylan arrived here - nada. He gets bored and goes out looking for demons to cast into hell. Sometimes he comes back bruised up from whatever he encountered. This is why the local demons are massing and assaulting my shield every night. Normally we have a hands-off, neutrality relationship, but that changed when I started sleeping with the enemy."

"I noticed your shield has been in retreat."

Hester nods. "By now you realize that I've grown dangerously fond of Dylan, and that's weakening my powers. A few more days of this and I'll be out of the grey forever."

"From my perspective that's not such a bad thing, but if you value your witch status so much, why not just kick Dylan out?"

"I can't. You know there are spiritual laws governing hospitality and if I violate them, fate will deal me a punishment. With my powers so weak, I might not survive that. Dylan has to leave of his own accord, or if he betrays me..."

"Then you can kick him out. That's why you were trying to get me to jump Dylan's bones? You can't ask him to leave, so you choose to manipulate me into seducing him. But if you care for him...?"

Hester looks out the window at Dylan and hastily wipes away a tear. "What do you want me to say, Joan? That I would give up being a witch to be with him? Of course I would, but that isn't a choice I have. He doesn't love me. Dylan loves you and only you, no matter how much he tries to deny it. Every time we are together, he's thinking of you and crying on the inside because you broke his heart. It leads to a lot of angry sex. Fortunately, I love it rough."

Hester forces a leer to her face, but for once Joan can clearly read her soul. The witch's normally frozen heart is shattering from longing for someone she knows she can never have. She is risking her life and soul to be with Dylan, but she will never win his heart. Joan feels a sympathy for Hester she couldn't have imagined only minutes ago.

"I'll talk to him - get him to leave."

Hester nods and hands Joan the cooler. As Joan exits the house, she sees out of the corner of her eye Hester sagging to her knees, softly crying. Feeling less fond of Dylan than when she arrived, Joan drops an ice cube in the small of his back. He hastily turns over, brushing away the ice.

"Your beer, Lord Hunter."

Dylan grunts his displeasure as he accepts the cooler from Joan. She sits in a patio chair opposite him.

"Why are you still here, Joan? There's nothing left between us."

"I disagree. Considering all we've been through, you at least owe me a conversation."

Dylan pulls a beer from the cooler. "Want one?"

"Sure." Joan says as she takes the beer and sips. She has never been fond of beer, but she recognizes it is a symbolic granting of her request.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Gee, I don't know...best tourist spots in Honolulu? What do you think? You cut me out of your life!"

"After you cheated on me."

"Did not."

"Did too. My abilities may not be as advanced as yours, but when you got back from Chicago I clearly read sexual guilt in your soul. You cheated."

"Dylan, I have had sex with only two men in my life. Jimmy, whom I was engaged to, and you. I did not sleep with Tyler..."

"I thought so! Tyler Christian, he's the one you were with."

"I wasn't 'with'. You should be able to determine if I'm telling the truth."

Joan pauses, opening herself up and Dylan does an intense read of her soul...

"You reveal too much, Joan. Okay, you didn't sleep with him, but you really, really wanted to. You went to Chicago to have sex with the guy but circumstances interfered. Okay, I concede you didn't cheat...except in your heart."

The pair goes silent, each feeling the other's pain as clearly as their own. Their connection is too strong to deny, but it isn't helping them solve their problems. Joan tosses Dylan a towel...

"Do you mind? I find this three-eyed conversation distracting."

Dylan wraps the towel around his waist. "Better?"

"Yes. Okay...when I went to Chicago we were not officially a couple. You agreed, no labels on our relationship."

"So you're saying our night together meant nothing to you?"

"No, of course not. It was wonderful, but...it scared me."

"Scared you how?"

"Because I knew, no matter what words you said, you saw the two of us on a locked-in lifepath of serious relationship, engagement, marriage, kids and a house in the burbs with a white picket fence."

"Is that so horrible?"

"No, it sounds great...considerably down the road. I'm not ready for that at this point in my life. I...made those same plans with Jimmy, and I couldn't go through that again so soon."

"I was willing to go slow - take years if necessary, but you chose to chase after some old rich guy."

"Tyler isn't old, and I was free to pursue anyone I wanted."

"So, after leaving my bed you decided you needed a different guy for...comparison? Or maybe you just needed relief from my oppressiveness. What was the reason, Joan? Why were you with him?"

"He..used sexual charisma on me."

A look of pure rage crosses Dylan's face. "I'll kill him!"

For a moment Joan considers letting things stand as they are. She can talk Dylan out of any violent plans, and if he thinks she was compelled to chase after Tyler, he will forgive and take her back. But no, it would be a relationship built on a lie, and with Dylan's growing abilities, it would be a lie he would soon see through.

"Calm down, King Kong. Tyler used the mildest form just once in order to have me spend more time getting to know him. After that..."

"You pursued him out of a natural attraction."

"Sort of. True, I was attracted to Tyler, but I also felt this amazing connection that I couldn't explain. It turns out Tyler Christian was a retired instrument of God - one that God wanted back in the fold."

"Ah...so this was only about God's way of assigning you the task of getting Tyler back into service?"

Another easy out. "No. It was a part of the list of things I was suppose to do while in my old hometown, so God took advantage of the fact that I was already going there to...seduce Tyler. I'm so sorry, Dylan. But at least one good thing came out of my Chicago trip, I finally realized that it is you that I love and belong with. If you'll have me back?"

"No."

Joan is startled by Dylan's answer. In her mind she had carefully worked out this scenario and was sure he would take her back at this point. Could it be Dylan's love has faded too much to rekindle?

"Why?"

"I'm tired of you, Joan. You won my heart the first moment I saw you, but ever since then you have treated it like a door mat. This thing with Tyler, the mental images that haunt me, it's the last straw."

"Are you kidding me? You won't take me back over this after all of the things you've done? You're not the only one who has to deal with 'images'. Since the day you gave me your heart, you've slept with Dillon, Stevie, Caspar - all friends of mine, plus Natalie..."

"Who?"

"Natalie Gerling, the contestant co-ordinator from Rapid Dough. I have it on good authority that while you were under a certain witch's seduction spell, Natalie came to your room..."

"Oh, that. No, she made a pass at me but I knew there was something weird going on. I turned her down and spent the night in prayer and meditation."

"Oh. Well...what about the freaky image of you and Ms Chalky in there? If you have white bed linen, I don't know how you find her."

"The bedding is light blue."

"Not my actual point. If I'm willing to put aside the mental image of you plowing that albino bean pole, then you should be able to deal with me and a guy I didn't sleep with!"

Dylan sighs heavily. "Joan, I can't keep living like this. You've broken my heart too many times - twice in just the last year. After I proposed to you last year in L.A. and you rejected me, you turned around and became engaged to a man you had known for only a few days. And now, right after we 'consummated our love', you tried your best to seduce another man. No more! I wish I had never met you."

Dylan once more covers his face with the straw hat, trying to look indifferent, but he isn't fooling Joan. She can feel his misery and it amplifies her own. Joan breaks down and begins to sob. Her tears flow freely, her breaking heart draining her of all energy so that she can't run away as she wants to. Dylan looks at Joan and he feels his own tears begining. The urge to take her into his arms, to comfort Joan and tell her all is forgiven is overwhelming... No - no - no, not again. If she breaks his heart one more time...it will kill him. Dylan strips off the towel, dives into the pool and begins swimming laps.

Joan wipes away her tears and braces herself for what she must do. She goes to the side of the pool, kneels and watches Dylan swimming for awhile. He has always been a great all around athlete, and he swims with strength and speed. Joan calls out...

"Don't you want to know how I found you?"

Dylan pauses, treading water. "Only my Dad knew where I was. Some how you got it out of him."

Joan shakes her head. "No, I tried everything I could think of to get Dr. Huinter to tell me, but he wouldn't betray your trust. I even tried an intense, focused read of his soul but his charism is too strong...oops, did I just give away a secret?"

"Nah. I told Dad a couple of months ago about being an instrument of God - turns out, he already knew. That's when he revealed that for most of his life he has been getting divinely inspired dreams and visions. But, I wasn't aware you knew."

"We shared our secrets back when you guys were living in Arcadia. And in full disclosure, my Mom has the same charism."

"So...your point is that because our lives parallel, we are some how fated?"

"Get over yourself. That part of the conversation is done. The way I found you is that a really, really big bird told me."

Dylan instantly gets the inside joke. "My tutor-angel told you where I was?"

"No, mine did. I'm not sure if they are the same one, even though their descriptions are identical. I suppose God has thousands of the same model. Anyway, I was given a message to pass along to you: get your lazy butt home A.S.A.P. before you're charged with desertion."

"Literally?"

"The Joan Girardi translation. The point is, you're a soldier in God's army. No matter what emotional drama you may be going through, you just don't take off for weeks and months at a time without His permission."

"If God wanted me to know this, why didn't he tell me himself?"

"Figure it out, genius. He hasn't been coming around because you're shacked up with a witch! Do you think God goes near a situation like that?"

"What about my own tutor-angel? He still shows up at dawn every morning for my training sessions. His knock on the spiritual shield sounds like being inside a giant bell. He could have passed along this message. And I thought you were done with training?"

"I'm being tutored in spiritual law - long story. I guess I was picked as messenger since God knew I was looking for you already. His way of killing two birds with one stone."

"I see. Then I guess I better pack. Can you give me a lift back to Honolulu?"

Joan looks at the sky and shakes her head. "It's almost dark and it wouldn't be safe to face all of those demons then."

"I've done it before."

"There's a new one out there, a violence demon - one rung lower than a death demon. Trust me, you're not ready to face that."

"We could face it together."

"No thank you. Unlike you, I know better than to randomly demon hunt. It leads to messes like the one outside this shield. I only deal with the demons I run across during assignments. Remember, you have a General who is all knowing."

"Oh yeah, I seem to recall reading that somewheres." Dylan says with a grin.

Joan smiles back and a daring thought crosses her mind. Should she? Oh, what the hell...

"Mind if I cool off with a swim?"

"Okay, but I don't think any of Hester's swimsuits will fit you - especially on top."

"Who needs a swimsuit?"

With haste, Joan strips off all of her clothes and dives in. She swims directly to Dylan, who smiles with pleasure at the sight of her nudity.

"Joan..."

Joan splashes Dylan and swims away. Dylan chases after her, catches up and splashes back. This begins a water fight with the two of them playing and laughing like children. Joan gets Dylan with a big splash of water and again swims away. Dylan easily catches up with her, but this time he takes Joan into his arms. Their kiss begins gently but quickly builds with passion. With neither treading water, they sink to the bottom still kissing...

X X X X X

7-5-08/Saturday, three a.m.

Joan leaves the guest room wearing a borrowed robe and heads for the kitchen. After getting a bottled water, she heads back but notices a light shining in the master bedroom. Joan goes to the slightly open door and sees Hester working on another of her dark and disturbing paintings. She uses a lot of black and grey, and Joan briefly considers buying one to give to her former spymaster boss, I.B. Dunn. Since he sees only black, white and grey, he might think it beautiful.

"You're very skillful. You know, your work would probably sell even if you didn't enchant them."

Without pause Hester replies, "Probably, but they wouldn't sell for nearly as much. Are you and Dylan done for the night? I was about to start searching for earplugs."

Joan gulps, "Were we...loud?"

"Are you kidding? The probably heard you in Honolulu. You sure must like that Boss of yours - you called out his name often enough."

Joan blushes furiously and quickly changes the subject. "Uh, thanks again for letting us stay the night."

"Purely self interest. The last thing I need is an epic good versus evil battle right outside my door. Now that Dylan has officially cheated on me, I can toss him out on his ass anytime I want and things can finally get back to normal around here."

Joan hears the brave words, but she can feel the pain behind them. "Hester..."

"So, are the two of you going to enjoy a Hawaiian vacation or head back to the mainland?"

"Back to L.A. on the first available flight and then...get him to a health clinic for testing."

"Testing?"

"Fortunately I had condoms, but let's face it - Dylan has spent weeks having unprotected sex with the state's biggest slut."

"Hey...!"

"Denial?"

"No, but considering what I did for you guys, you could have phrased that nicer."

"What do you mean: what you did for us?"

"If only you had let me handle things my way, you would have avoided so much pain. It was pathetic listening to all of that romantic angst. I couldn't stand it anymore, and since you both were distracted, I put mutual seduction spells on both of you."

"Then...our reconciliation isn't real?"

"Of course it's real. Seduction spells only work once, and by my count, you guys have gone back for seconds and thirds. Why do you think most couples' fights end with make-up sex? When you're in love, passion cleans the slate. Honestly, since the two of you have done the sexual hat trick, can you detect any lingering anger, resentment or pain?"

Joan smiles. "No..."

"You're welcome. And by the way, don't worry about Dylan's health. I use magic to protect myself from things like STD's and pregnancies. Trust me, it works a lot better than a thin layer of latex."

"You are an unusual woman Hester Rodney, and I mean that in a good way."

"As a great philosopher-sailor once said: 'I yam what I yam'."

Joan nods and begins to leave but Hester softly adds...

"Do you know why he came to me?"

"Not a clue."

"In the weeks that we've been together, in between all of the 'woo-hooing', we talked often and I explored his soul. I know Dylan better than he knows himself. Of course he's a man, so he's not that complicated. When the two of you broke up in high school, he immediately hooked up with a friend of yours..."

"Dillon Samuels. We weren't close, but I saved her life once, so yeah - we were friends."

"It was a wildly inappropriate choice designed to hurt you."

"Had that figured out day one."

"But Dylan, good guy at his core, knew that by using the Dillon girl to hurt you, he would eventually hurt her. He also knew that would cause him enormous guilt and painful regrets. Subconsciously, it was his self-imposed punishment for hurting the two of you."

"Dylan spent months apologizing to the other Dillon, making himself her virtual slave until she forgave him. They parted on good terms. And I get it. When I heard Dylan was with you, I immediately thought it was a wildly inappropriate choice that was designed to alarm and hurt me."

"He repeated his pattern. Like I said, he's not complicated. Only...he assumed that with me being a witch, I couldn't be hurt when it ended."

"But you knew, and you went ahead with the relationship anyway. Why?"

Hester shrugs. "People who play extreme sports know they will eventually be hurt, but the thrill is still there. Joan, do a witch a favor and don't let Dylan know...about what I'm feeling. I'm a big girl and I can handle it, but it will be a lot easier if he isn't hanging around feeling guilty and trying to make up for it. Okay?"

"I'll do my best."

"Thanks."

Joan goes back to the door, but before she exits she pauses. "You know, you're not fooling me."

"I'm not?"

"You were listening to our conversation. You knew Dylan had already agreed to leave before you put those spells on us. It wasn't because you needed an excuse to kick Dylan out."

Hester sighs. "Caught me. If I can't have Dylan, I will take solace in his happiness, and that means you, Joan."

"Thank you, Hester."Joan says as she heads back to the guest room while Hester closes the door. When she is sure she can't be overheard, Hester laughs...

"Of course, I do get major 'dark points' for having successfully manipulated not one but two instruments of God - putting me solidly back in the grey and replenishing my powers."

The witch continues to chuckle as she resumes painting.

THE END

Reviews are greatly appreciated.


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